


cloaked in sheepskin

by feralphoenix



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Medieval, DMAB Chara, Explicit Sexual Content, Light Bondage, Other, Outdoor Sex, Xeno
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-13
Updated: 2016-07-13
Packaged: 2018-07-23 18:05:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,171
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7474419
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/feralphoenix/pseuds/feralphoenix
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is it; very soon the prince of all monsters and his human champion will meet with the rebel organization, luring them into the royalists' trap and putting an end to everything. There are only one or two more hours of lying in wait to go.</p><p>Clearly this is the perfect time for a quickie.</p><p>(A companion to Eristastic's <a href="http://archiveofourown.org/works/7440790">delightful tournament AU</a>.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	cloaked in sheepskin

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Eristastic](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eristastic/gifts).
  * Inspired by [The Corruption of the Sacrificial Lamb](https://archiveofourown.org/works/7440790) by [Eristastic](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eristastic/pseuds/Eristastic). 



> _(the unbearable price of earthly delights_ – [diamonds](https://soundcloud.com/ohwondermusic/dazzle) in your eyes tonight)
> 
> Actual Conversation That Actually Took Place After I Beta Read [Chapter 8](http://archiveofourown.org/works/7440790/chapters/16968957) Of _Corruption of the Sacrificial Lamb_ :
> 
> me: LMAO these horny teenagers  
> me: whatever plot/fighty things are about to happen here im sure that this isnt a time that they want blue balls  
> eris: i know...clearly they made the wrong decision here  
> me: clearly the only solution is a couple of very very quick blowjobs  
> eris: EXACTLY  
> me: Very quick so that the refractory period will be over by the time the rebels show up  
> eris: gotta go fast... giving head at the speed of light  
> me: CACKLES  
> eris: i won't write it but please imagine that that's probably exactly what happened  
> me: high five  
> me: also Look  
> me: if youd rather not write it, i can,  
> eris: you Absolutely have my permission if this is something you wanted to write  
> me: hell yes

It had been a bad idea.

Chara had known that when they asked Asriel if they could touch him, but they’d gone on ahead and done it nonetheless. They needed the stimulus to silence their wildly buzzing mind, still the see-saw that yawed from uncomprehending euphoria to terror and uncertainty and back with little to no warning. And it had seemed like the thing to do—to remind themself that _yes,_ this was really happening, everything was about to be solved and that Ree, Asriel, the _prince,_ was really and truly theirs. That they could keep him, that they could keep _this._

And, foolishly, they’d gotten carried away. They’d called a halt to the kisses, they’d gotten up off Asriel’s lap themself, but their prick still strained happily against the loose fabric of their trousers, raising a tent as cheerful as the far more apparent one in Asriel’s tighter breeches. Their breath was still rushing; blood still clamored hopefully in their wrists and their mouth, between their legs. Ree’s—Asriel’s, they reminded themself, _Asriel’s_ broad chest was heaving too, the pupils of his eyes wide with lust.

The only things that could dampen their arousal at this point were a deliberate return to their anxieties about this plan—a terrible idea, if they wanted to keep their composure at all—or perhaps a dunk in cold water, and they were _not_ about to empty the contents of their canteen down the front of their pants and waste it. The nearest river was ten minutes’ walk away.

They could go to the other side of the tree, or hide in the shade of a nearby one, and slake their desire with their own two hands, they thought. Heat crept into their cheeks as they thought of Ree—of _Asriel_ sitting here listening. But that wouldn’t be fair, would it? They would be the only one to get any relief, while Asriel…

“You should untie me a bit after all,” he whined, straining almost playfully in the ropes that bound his wrists and ankles. It was ludicrous playacting, and they both knew it; if Asriel really wanted out of the restraints, he could snap loose in a flash.

“I told you, I can’t; it would be annoying to do them back up.” Besides, Asriel clearly enjoyed being tied. He’d responded to it… _interestingly_ from the time that Chara had half-teasingly invited him to help them with target practice; that was no doubt part of the reason he was so het up now.

“Chara,” said the prince of the monsters, looking at them with mingled irritation and mild concern, “I—I don’t know if I’m going to be able to calm down in time.”

Chara considered him for a very long moment.

“We still have another hour or two,” they said slowly. Their pulse hammered in their throat; this was a terrible idea. The absolute worst. “We _could_ hypothetically see this thing through.”

Asriel’s mouth fell open, his eyes going round. _“Chara,”_ he said breathily, as if awed—all excitable puppy, every inch the too-childish-and-whiny-for-his-size palace servant he’d passed himself off as at first.

“It would have to be quick,” they cautioned—as if either of them could last very long, in their state. “And we’d only—be able to use hands and mouths. But we have an hour, or longer. It might be easier to recover than to wait to calm down.”

If they were to be honest, this was not what they had pictured whenever they imagined what their first time with Asriel might be like. Not that the thoughts had been so very concrete, but they’d assumed some combination of a bed, lamplight, time to be slow and careful and languid. But here they were, and Asriel looked not just utterly helpless but so _pleased_ to be helpless, eager and aroused and _real,_ and if Chara couldn’t get a little relief they just might implode.

“Yes,” Asriel breathed. As if they could have counted on him at all to say the sensible thing, Chara thought with a pang, smiling despite themself. “Yes, I—Chara, I want to.”

“Well, then,” Chara forced out, mostly croak, and knelt.

Asriel made a valiant effort to unbend his body from comma to parenthesis once more without rubbing the pale golden beige fabric of his breeches through the soft dirt too much. Chara cast their eyes around the clearing just once more; the royal guard members were stationed out there somewhere, they knew, but only close enough to see through their spyglasses, not close enough to hear. Shielded by the tall grass, they and Asriel would be fine—if Asriel could control his voice, at least. Luckily, he’d never been overly loud the other times they’d gotten close; it was probably safe.

One day Chara would make him make noise on purpose, in a comfortable room, in the quiet of the night with nothing to worry about and no one there to hear. Shaky, uncertain happiness uncoiled in their gut.

“You first,” they said, with an attempt at kindness. “To make up for me bullying you a bit earlier.”

Ree— _Asriel_ had to direct them in undoing the fastenings of his fine breeches; Chara hoped it wasn’t too obvious how their hands shook. But Asriel’s breath was fluttering very fast too, and he was making that low trill-like growl in the back of his throat again; at least it wasn’t only them on edge.

At last they got the stubborn garment open. Asriel sighed with relief as his cock stood free; Chara stared at it, heart knocking at their ribs.

He was huge. Well. They had had some idea, grinding the tent in their own pants against his lap; seeing and feeling were different matters. At least the shape of his penis was not so very different from their own. It was soft, vulnerable pink, darker at the head—the tip of which was already starting to bead with clear drops of precome. A—a sheath, they supposed it should be called, rather than foreskin? Folds of furred skin hung about the base, at any rate. Between Asriel’s breeches and his tied ankles preventing him from spreading his thighs very far, they couldn’t get a clear view of his balls, but they could see enough. Heat throbbed between their own legs. They’d thought, many times, that they could not possibly want Asriel any more fiercely. This assumption was, it seemed, ludicrously incorrect.

Suddenly timid, they reached out to fit one hand around the shaft. It was hot to the touch, quite as warm as their own skin when they touched themself. Asriel let his head fall back, whining low in his chest, his horns knocking against the tree trunk noisily.

Their thumb and fingertips met, at least; there was that, Chara thought with an edge of hysteria. Never mind that they could overlap their fingers easily when it was their own prick they were stroking. Shy, they let their gaze drop to R—to Asriel’s beautiful thighs once more, to the muscle straining under the tight cloth.

They frowned.

“You’ll have to come in my mouth,” they said slowly as the realization dawned.

“I’ll—I’ll have to _what?”_ he said.

“And I might have to come in yours, too,” Chara went on. Their ears felt hot; their face was likely bright crimson. “Otherwise you’ll get it all over your clothes, and—I don’t think we quite want that, do we?”

“Oh!” Asriel said. A pause. “Yes, I… I see your point. Um—you can… you can spit it out if you want to, though.”

“I think I’ll be all right,” Chara said, smiling a little, feeling the expression stretch awkwardly. Blood pounded in their lips; they felt more aware of their teeth and tongue than they ever had in their life. “But thank you. The same goes for you, too. You needn’t push yourself to swallow if you don’t want to.”

“I’ll… be all right too,” Asriel said at length.

Chara nodded and fluttered their fingers up and down Asriel’s cock. He whined, twisting his head to one side.

“Are my hands too rough?” they asked, quiet.

He shook his head. “My pads are harder than your calluses, it’s fine. I, uh, I like it if you sort of twist your fingers, like…”

“This?” Chara asked, moving wrist and fingers back and forth as they slid their forearm up and down. Asriel slumped back against the tree in response, rewarding Chara with another low whine.

Emboldened, they gave him a few more strokes, then leaned in, reaching up with their free hand to tuck their hair behind their ear. The short wisps didn’t stay put, immediately falling back down over their temple. The back of their neck felt suddenly cold, as it always did when they forgot about their haircut. It had been stupid; R— _Asriel_ had seen through them right away _anyway._ They should have stuck with just the ugly dye; at least that had washed out well enough. It was more… _masculine_ than they had worn their hair in a long, long time. It was uncomfortable; often they regretted panicking and hacking it all off.

Oh, well. It would grow back out in time. And they caught Asriel staring at their throat or the nape of their neck like something rare and beautiful sometimes, which was a definite bonus.

“I don’t know what I’m doing,” they murmured, low with the shame of having to admit such a thing aloud. “If I hurt you, if this is uncomfortable, tell me to stop.”

It took Asriel a very anxious few heartbeats to realize that they were waiting for a response. “Of course,” he said, the low whine back in his voice. “It’s fine. I don’t know any better. It’s okay, Chara.”

They nodded just once, tense, and leaned in to lick the rim.

Asriel groaned; his cock twitched under their hands, and more precome beaded at the tip, level with Chara’s cheekbone. The scent of it was sharp and heady; barely daring to breathe, they shifted and swirled their tongue up to lick it away. They could feel Asriel’s whole body go rigid under them, his breath all rushing out at once.

Considering, they rolled it over their tongue, closing their eyes to better savor the taste. Once, young and curious, they’d run a fingertip over their own wet prick and licked the streak it left there; they hadn’t tasted the bitterness that the bawdy paperbacks passed between giggling Faille adoptees described, and dismissed it as a myth. But Asriel tasted bitter to them—not a strong or repellent taste so much as an intriguing one.

 _“Chara,”_ Asriel said, voice low and choked with need. They breathed in and resumed the gentle slide of their hands, swirling their tongue over him with more confidence.

Those same bawdy paperbacks had given them at least some idea of what deep-throating was, but it had always sounded intimidating to Chara; they were definitely not going to attempt it with so little idea of how it ought to be attempted, and certainly not on their first time giving head. Flush-faced with effort and shyness, they let their lips part over the tip of Asriel’s penis, bowing to take as much of the head into their mouth as they could. This would have to do for now.

Asriel’s breath hitched as they laved the spot under the head where the rim smoothed into the shaft with the middle of their tongue. “Chara,” he said, and then again, more urgently: “Chara, I’m—I think—”

Thankfully that was all the warning they needed, because it was all the warning they got; Asriel’s body coiled in like a fist clenching, or a trap snapping shut; the shaft of his prick twitched between their hands, and their mouth flooded with come—hot, bitter, forceful enough to make their tongue sting.

They swallowed, then again, then a third time, and finally Asriel went slack underneath them, gasping, his cock gone flaccid in their hands. Chara let go of him, reaching up with one hand to wipe the corners of their mouth.

Slowly, they straightened up to admire their handiwork (suppressing a smile at the private pun). Asriel lay limp in his bonds, eyes fluttered closed, chest and stomach heaving, a faint smile curving his lips.

Not bad, for a first attempt. Little flickers of pride bubbled up in their stomach, and they smiled for real.

Asriel took one last deep breath and let it out, wriggling a bit in the dirt to straighten up against the tree. He swallowed visibly. “Well,” he said, “will you let me have a try, too?”

His try for bravado was so _awkward,_ but it still made Chara’s heart stutter staccato against their breastbone. “All right,” they said.

With Asriel’s hands bound, there were a lot of things they had to take care of on their own; fumbling with their own trousers, for instance, as they staggered to their feet. This put their hips about level with Asriel’s face, and they stood with their feet to either side of his knees as they got their pants open. They couldn’t help but sigh at the relief from their clothes’ pressure; they couldn’t hold that in too while suppressing the urge to fidget under Asriel’s curious gaze.

“Come closer?” he said, and helpless as a kite on a string—or maybe a fish on a hook—Chara stepped in, so that they stood straddling their partner’s hips.

“Wait a moment,” they told him, and with Asriel watching in fascination, they rolled the foreskin back from the head of their cock. Swallowing hard, they braced their hands on the tree trunk, staring down at him.

R—Asriel leaned in a few inches, paused to look up at them for confirmation, and after seeing them nod, flicked out his tongue to lap very lightly at the head.

Chara gasped, curling their toes in their boots. They’d been dreaming, fantasizing, about this for so long—ever since the riverbank and Asriel sucking their cut finger. His tongue was long, thin, soft, flexible; smooth and warm and gentle. They’d bet it would feel wonderful on the fevered skin of their cock. They’d brought themself to more stuttering climaxes than could be counted on their fingers and toes, to that thought.

And all their desperate wondering didn’t even come _close_ to the reality. Asriel tilted his head to one side and licked again, more slowly, his breath rolling against Chara’s belly. His tongue was heaven, it was tender as silk. Chara leaned their forehead to the tree’s uneven bark, letting it press into their skin; they covered their mouth to hold in a moan, letting their other hand fall to find a limp grip on one of Asriel’s horns.

This time when he leaned in, he opened his mouth and took the length of Chara’s prick into it, careful not to close his jaws all the way, tongue stroking back and forth. The wet warmth of him nearly made Chara’s knees give out; their breath whistled through their fingers in a sigh. A sudden, terrifyingly fierce desire to thrust their hips forward welled up in them, but they forced their body to hold still, trembling with effort. Asriel’s mouth was longer than theirs, he could fit much more of them than they could him, but surely they would hit the back of his throat if they moved so roughly. Surely that would hurt him, and so they couldn’t.

To counter the desire to grab his horns and pull him in until the tip of his soft nose pressed into their pubes, they let their hands fall and stroked his head and ears instead. Their fingers were trembling, but he moaned at their touch nonetheless. The sound vibrated through them, forcing them to bite their lip until they tasted iron.

Asriel squirmed between their legs, grass and earth shifting audibly; then, as if he had found a comfortable position, he began to bob his head gently, a soft up-and-down motion, tongue still stroking at a different pace. It was clumsy, not at all smooth, and his breathing was labored, but the stimulation was almost too much for Chara to bear. Asriel’s eyes were half shuttered as he worked, and he continued to make low noises of contentment at Chara’s awkward touches. The intensity—the love, the devotion—and the pleasure at the hot wetness of his mouth, was too much for them to stand. Their balls cramped. He leaned in to take them deep and stayed there, suckling their prick, swamping their waist and loins in pressure. They lifted their hands from his fur in a hurry, gripping the tree trunk and digging their nails in.

“Ree,” they said. Their voice wavered and cracked, as if they were a child again; they _felt_ like a child, overwhelmed and helpless. “Asriel. Asriel, I’m coming.”

He hummed around the mouthful of their penis, and they bit their lip and arched their back, one long hard moan clawing up from their diaphragm. They shuddered, shuddered, but the sound—like their orgasm—burst out anyway.

Both were long and drawn out, leaving them weak and trembly. Asriel swallowed diligently, emitting once a pitched whine that Chara prayed was pleasure and not pain. Then they went soft, panting, and Asriel let them go.

With shaky hands, they patted his head again, hesitant touches and then longer strokes. Once they felt steady enough that they were sure they would not collapse if they pulled away from the tree, they tucked their cock back into their trousers and retied the laces.

Looking down at Asriel, they raised their eyebrows. He’d twisted so that his hips were tilted to one side; they shifted their left foot and bent over, and nearly groaned aloud: Asriel’s cock trailed ribbons of pearly come in the grass and the dirt, where it twinkled jovially in the fading sunlight. They were caught between exasperation— _again?_ Was his lust truly so fathomless?—and an odd sense of pride, that he’d somehow climaxed again, not even able to touch himself, just from sucking them off.

They sank down to sit next to him amongst the tree roots, leaning into his side, wobbly, breath still uneven. Quietly they calculated: That couldn’t have taken more than fifteen minutes, so if they got up again quickly, they would have time to fix Asriel’s outfit and bury that incriminating evidence, or find a new perch. They wouldn’t be caught in a compromising position.

“Chara,” Asriel croaked. “I love you.”

They smiled and nuzzled into his big warm shoulder. “You’re ridiculous,” they said, fond. “But I love you, as well.”

It’s not the first time that they were imagining. But as risky, as inadvisable, as poorly timed as this was—it was still shining in their chest, a warm beacon to banish their anxieties.

He was theirs. They were his. This was almost over; everything would be just fine.


End file.
